Niki True - Too Much/ Woman Of My Dreams

Propulsive and absurdly obscure eighties synth-pop

Label: Sad Frog

Year of Release: 1984

From a record collecting perspective, it does sometimes feel as if the golden genres of the sixties and seventies (freakbeat, mod, reggae, soul, psychedelia, glam, prog, new wave and punk) have been picked dry. We all dream of chancing upon a fantastic psychedelic pop acetate in the dusty plastic storage basin beneath the LPs at our local Guide Dogs For The Blind outlet, but in reality the game is almost up, certainly in terms of UK releases.

Eighties synth pop, on the other hand, is proving itself to still be an embarrassment of riches and a fertile period for creativity. Flowering during the post-punk era when the Do It Yourself mentality still appeared to make economic sense, the technology was getting more accessible and a plethora of tiny indies were perfectly happy to shove out electro experiments which sold in the hundreds, but it's still considered neither "muso" nor "counter-cultural" enough to tempt a lot of collectors. Trust me, though, it's worth digging in.

Despite its relative recency compared to a lot of the material I plonk on this blog, this release is so damn obscure I can find absolutely nothing about the performer. On the basis of this single, though, we can deduce that Niki True (no relation to Everett, I can only assume) was a master of hormonal, needy electro-pop. Side A "Too Much" is the sound of one bedroom electronics geek's knees knocking in the presence of a sophisticated lady with fine jewellery in the local wine bar. Synths zap and squelch all over the place while he sings about shimmering lipstick and the unlikely prospect of sex. You can almost feel his frustration in the vibrations the single emits. 

The B-side also suggests that Niki had something of a single-minded attitude to life, focusing on his desperate search for romantic companionship. Melodically and even stylistically "Woman Of My Dreams" bears a faint, passing relation to Teardrop Explodes "When I Dream", though I'm sure that's just a coincidence (and I'm sure Copey would have eschewed the sax solo at the end).  

Both sides here show a keen pop sensibility and an artist who could potentially have gone further with a bigger budget, and leave us pondering what became of Niki True. So far as I can tell, there are no other records out there with his name attached, so we'll have to wait and see if anyone comes forward with any news. 

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